2. January 2024
2
January 2024
I t was Willow’s second season with Victoria Ballet, but every time she stepped onto that stage, the nerves were the same, equal parts terrifying and thrilling. Nothing compared. Preseason performances were no exception.
‘Five minutes,’ the stage manager called, his head appearing around the dressing room door.
Liliana Chén—or Lili, as everyone called her—looked over at Willow. ‘Are you trying to break the record for the most pins in a dancer’s hair?’
‘We take our wins where we can get them, right?’
Lili smiled. ‘Right.’
Willow checked her hair and costume a final time, trying to ignore the nausea swirling inside her. That was normal for her. She had learned to perform with it. ‘I’m ready.’
‘Gorgeous as always,’ Lili said, turning to face her.
‘Back at you.’ She reached for her friend’s hand and squeezed. ‘Have fun.’
‘When don’t I?’
‘When you had that bunion in September.’
Lili winced. ‘I forgot about that.’
The pair followed the rest of the ensemble out of the room to wait in the wings, watching as the cradle onstage was walked towards the audience. The queen followed close by, beaming with pride while fanning herself. The waiting dancers moved into formation when they heard the applause, and when the music swelled again, they entered the stage and went straight into a petite allegro combination.
Looking out at the audience, Willow was disappointed to discover that the theatre was only half full. Neither Harrison nor Nigel had mentioned low ticket sales in the lead-up, but she understood why. They were trying to keep everyone’s spirits high.
The problem was, the theatre was old and practically falling down around them. It didn’t exactly help in drawing big crowds. In order to fix it, they needed money. Victoria Ballet relied heavily on the financial support of their patrons. But in order to get that help, they needed to create an atmosphere wealthy people would want to spend time in.
At least the company owned the theatre, which meant they always had somewhere to perform. The drawback was that they were entirely responsible for the upkeep.
‘Tonight, I want to see your souls leave your bodies,’ Harrison had told them that afternoon. ‘I want to hear the audience gasp at the sheer beauty of what they’re witnessing.’
No pressure.
Willow pushed herself hard during every performance—and every rehearsal, for that matter. She did this for all the usual reasons, but a part of her also felt like she owed her soul to Harrison. After all, he was the reason she was here. Her love of dance and unwavering dedication to her craft had brought her to ballet, but it was a childhood connection to the company’s creative director that had brought her to the Victoria Ballet. And she was not about to let that dream crumble.
Sleeping Beauty was pure enchantment. Vibrant silk and tulle swirled around the stage, the dancers’ bodices shimmering under the glow of the stage lights. Willow loved being a part of the living tapestry. It was far less glamourous backstage, with chaotic costume changes, malfunctions, and tears. But it was a privilege to be part of it.
Only as the final notes of the music played, and the dancers struck their closing pose, did Willow exhale and look out at the audience again. She blinked against the harsh light as she soaked up the applause and smiling faces before her. Then all too soon, the curtains dropped, and they all retreated to their dressing rooms.
The ensemble shared one large dressing room, and it always had a very different atmosphere post-performance. The tension was gone, and the conversation was loud.
Willow was pulling on leggings when Lili flopped down into the chair next to her. ‘I just heard from Nigel that the director from Southern Ballet was in the audience tonight.’
‘Heard or over heard?’
Lili waved her words away. ‘Same-same.’ She lowered her voice. ‘It seems our financial woes are now public. There’s blood in the water?—’
‘And the sharks are circling?’
Lili dragged a leg up and watched Willow pull pins from her hair. ‘Hopefully they take Cassie.’
Suppressing a smile, Willow shook her head. ‘Stop.’ She looked around before adding, ‘We could never be that lucky.’
Their principal dancer liked to play the diva from time to time—or all the time, if you were to ask any of the soloists.
‘They’ll need chorus dancers,’ Lili said, sitting up and pointing her sneakered feet.
Willow crinkled her nose. ‘They would be complete fools not to at least try and poach you.’
Lili made a cute face. ‘Aw.’ She bent and began rifling through Willow’s bag, handing her a pair of socks. ‘You know I could never leave you. We’re a package deal.’ She stifled a yawn. ‘If someone does get poached, be ready. The competition to replace them will be fierce.’
‘I’m happy to let you shine for both of us.’ Willow looked around the room at the other dancers. The pressure could be suffocating at times.
‘You can’t stay in the chorus forever. It’s a waste of talent,’ Lili said. Then, lowering her voice, she added, ‘You’re better than most of the dancers here despite having a fraction of their experience.’
Piper happened to walk past at that moment and tutted. ‘I heard that.’
‘I wasn’t referring to you,’ Lili called after her, then gave Willow a pained look. ‘Oops.’
Willow drank from her water bottle to stop from laughing.
There was a knock at the door, and a moment later, Harrison called through the gap, ‘Everyone decent?’
‘Yes,’ they all replied.
He poked his head in, then stepped into the room. His blond hair was slicked back for the occasion, his face closely shaven as it always was.
‘Well done, everyone.’ He turned in a circle with a bright smile, applauding them. ‘You were all fantastic out there tonight.’
Zoe slung her bag over her shoulder. ‘We couldn’t have done it without your incredible direction.’
Everyone groaned at her kiss-arse comment, but with good humour.
Colour pooled in her cheeks. ‘It’s actually true, but whatever.’
A murmur of laughter rolled across the room.
‘Not to get all soppy on you, but I promised you all when you joined this company that I would make it the best in Melbourne.’ Harrison looked from face to face, his eyes bright. ‘I know we can get there, so stick with me.’
Lili gave Willow a pointed look and mouthed, ‘Southern Ballet.’
Willow shook her head.
‘Go home, shower, and put on something nice. I’ve invited some of our supporters to Titian for drinks. They’re looking forward to seeing you all there.’
‘Will there be a bar tab?’ Lili asked, only half joking.
‘There will—with a limit because you’re all back in the studio at 10:00 a.m. Do not forget that.’ He looked straight at Lili while stating that last part.
She raised her hands, feigning innocence.
As the dancers began to file out of the dressing room, Harrison made his way over to Willow. ‘Well done, you. You just need to remember to relax your shoulders.’ He placed his hands on them and pushed down gently. ‘We need to work on those lat muscles.’
While Willow always welcomed corrections, it was embarrassing to be singled out straight after a performance. Their shared history did not always work in her favour. ‘I’ll mention it at Pilates tomorrow.’
‘Good.’ He gave her shoulders a pat before removing his hands.
‘Did our dear patrons seem happy post-performance?’ Lili asked as she bent to pick up her bag.
Harrison faced the mirror and re-tucked the front of his shirt. ‘I believe so. How happy will be determined over the next week—by our philanthropy team.’
‘You would think the condition of the chairs they were sitting in would be enough inspiration to up their donations,’ Lili said.
Willow smiled at the ground.
‘Bring your most interesting small-talk topics tonight,’ Harrison said, ignoring the comment. ‘And your most charming smiles.’
Lili flashed her teeth. ‘Are any of these rich patrons of ours single men aged between twenty-five and forty by any chance?’
The corner of Harrison’s mouth lifted. ‘You’ll have to spend time with them to find out.’ He exhaled dramatically. ‘I’m going to head there now. I’ll see you both soon.’ With that, he left the dressing room.
Once he was gone, Lili turned to Willow. ‘My future husband could be at this event tonight. I need to go home and find something tight to wear.’
‘Why not dazzle them with your wit instead?’
‘Oh, I plan on doing both.’ She looped her arm through Willow’s and began walking. ‘You do realise that I’m one year off being dubbed shengnu .’
‘What does shengnu mean?’
‘It means “leftover women.”’
Willow laughed. ‘You’re twenty-six for God’s sake. Hardly “leftover.”’
‘Tell that to my parents in Shanghai. They keep trying to set me up with Chinese lawyers and doctors working in Melbourne. It’s terrifying how far their reach extends. Every night when I get home, ?yí has a new picture to show me.’
Willow dropped her head to Lili’s shoulder as they exited the dressing room, feeling grateful for their friendship. Leaving all of her family and friends behind in Sydney and moving to Melbourne had been the scariest thing she’d ever done. But then she had met Lili.
As the pair made their way to the foyer, Willow glanced in the direction of the theatre, then let go of Lili’s arm. ‘I’ll be back in a sec.’
‘Where are you going?’
‘I just want to look inside.’
Lili exhaled, then followed her.
They entered the theatre, where a cleaner was now working her way between the rows of seats. The ancient lights cast creepy shadows across the cracked and peeling paint on the walls. It was evident that many new coats had been applied since its opening in the forties. Victoria Ballet had purchased the theatre in the late nineties and added a level above with studios and offices, all in one convenient location.
‘Even the curtains seem sad,’ Lili said beside her.
Its space and design were charming enough. It just needed a lot of love—and money.
‘If you do happen to meet your very rich future husband at drinks tonight, be sure to mention it,’ Willow said.
Lili took her hand and pulled her in the direction of the door. ‘Let’s go. We’ll share a taxi and save our feet for wearing heels.’
Willow looked over her shoulder a final time before she was dragged through the doors.